Fire of Silence
by ElfWarrior
Summary: A Herald is on circuit when a new Herald is Chosen, but there's something different about this new guy: he appears to be insane. Please read, and if you do, REVIEW.
1. Ryara Comes to Town

Disclaimer: Nope, Valdemar isn't mine (sigh).

Author's Note: This takes place a little after the Vows and Honor books, before Roald was crowned. This story was inspired by THE RAGING QUIET by Sheryl Jordan, which is a book that everyone should read because it's absolutely fantastic.

Herald Ryara heaved a sigh of relief as the town came into view. Her second circuit—her first alone—and she'd gotten one that stretched all the way to the far north of Valdemar. She'd never been anywhere near this far north of Haven, in all her twenty-two years. Up here, in the winter, towns and Waystations were few and far between. This one looked small, and was probably full of backcountry prejudices, but it would have an inn and a warm bed. That was all she cared about right now.

_:Pray for a warm stable too,: her Companion Arilee added. __:I'm almost as tired as you are saddle-sore.:_

_:Nothing comes close to how saddle-sore I am,:  the Herald retorted._

_:Not even how much you love me?:_

_:Well...maybe that.:_

_:Aww, thank you.:_

Ryara ruffled Arilee's mane between her ears. _:I'll get you a warm stable if it means I have to sleep there myself.:_

_:Wow. Now that's__ devotion. I love being pampered.:_

_:Yes, I know. Why do you think I do it?:_

_:Because you love me.:_

_:That too. Now that we've gone over the fact that I adore you, o picturesque-beauty-of-a-Companion-who-is-adored-by-all__-the-stallions, do I get some flattery?:_

Arilee tossed her head mischievously. _:No. Your ego doesn't need swelling.:_

_:As if yours did, horse.:_

_:I am not__ a horse!: Arilee snapped._

_:Alright. Mule, then.:_

Arilee broke into a bone-jarring trot that made Ryara's already sore behind ache all the more. She winced. "I take it back! Stop trotting! Who's the one who promised you a warm stable, you stupid horse?"

As Arilee slowed, reminding her Chosen once more that she was _not a horse, Ryara reached into a saddlebag and pulled out a strip of leather to tie back her shoulder-length brown hair with. She didn't want to appear __too uncouth for the townspeople—Heraldic reputation was hard earned and hard to keep. Ryara herself was nothing special physically—on the pretty side of plain, with clear blue-gray eyes and a multitude of freckles sprinkled across her sharply pointed nose. She was exceptional with a sword, moderately good with a bow, but if armed with any other weapons, it was better for her to run in the opposite direction of the fight. She had two magical Gifts: Mindspeech and Firestarting. The latter was weak and only good for lighting campfires and anything smaller, though that in itself was a blessing, but the former was strong and well developed, though she refused to use it in a fight unless her life or the lives of others depended on it. Luckily, she hadn't been in any truly deadly situations yet. She hoped this particular circuit wouldn't be the first to put her in such a position._

They reached the town soon enough. Arilee carried Ryara straight to the only inn, a cozy looking place full of locals who welcomed her nicely. Arilee was given her warm stall, and Ryara was seated to a large dinner in the center of the common room. As soon as she finished, she was bombarded with requests for news from the capital. Ryara gave it all willingly, trading stories with the friendly villagers late into the night.

Finally, as snow fell softly in the cold, crisp night—a lovely sight from inside, though none would like to go out into that weather—Ryara leaned back in her chair and asked, "So, are there any disputes to be settled? Surely you've come up with something in the twenty-odd years it's been since a Herald came up here!" This area had been sorely neglected of late—and before. Everyone back at Haven had been appalled when they found how long it had been since this place had been seen to.

One man opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, the door opened and another man stumbled in.

Ryara's mouth fell open. His clothes were rags, and he had no shoes. He looked to be about her age, maybe a year or so older. His hair was black and shaggy, and his ice-green eyes were wild. He was shivering with cold, arms wrapped around his painfully skinny body. He looked at her, and  that intense, almost animal-like gaze pierced her heart.

Ryara stood to bring him inside, assuming that this was a stranger to the town and hoping that the townsfolk would treat him as well as they had her.

To her shock, she heard someone laugh. "'Tis only Elryl."

"Get 'im outta my inn!" the innkeeper cried.

Two burly young men advanced on the newcomer, Elryl, who opened his mouth as if to speak, but only garbled nonsense came out. As they came close, he tried to dodge away, but one of them grabbed his shoulder in a grip of iron. The other took a firm hold of his shirt. As Elryl tried frantically to escape, the thin material tore and he ran off into the freezing night, tripping and falling into the snow. Everyone laughed.

Ryara was shaking with fury. "What the hell did you do that for?" she cried.

The innkeeper turned to her in surprise. "That were Elryl. He's mad, he is, always talkin' nonsense. An' he don't listen when he's called. True madness, 'tis. He's not simple, don't think. Just half-devilish."

Ryara gasped in rage. "I've never heard of anything so ridiculous in all my life! This is absolutely ludicrous! I am going after him myself and bringing him back here, and you will treat him as if he were a guest from the king!"

She turned on her heel and tromped off into the night.

Shyr ran, ran as he had never run before. The time had finally come! He pounded down the road, a flash of silver-white in the darkness, the snow not even touching him. He wouldn't have felt the cold if it had—the time had finally come! He was going to Choose. He knew who his Chosen was, knew exactly where to find the young man whose Gifts were awakening so late. But they were as powerful as they were belated—more so. And on the verge of explosion with the frustration, fear, and rage that burned so fiercely within him.

Shyr ran faster. His Chosen needed him.


	2. In the Snow Outside

"Oh, I _wish I were dressed for this!" Ryara rubbed her hands up and down her arms, her sympathy for Elryl growing as she felt the cold in her bones. How he survived out here in only those thin rags..._

She followed his trail to the blacksmith's house. He was crouched behind the building, trying to find some of the warmth of the day's work in the stones.

Ryara hurried up to him. He gave no sign of having heard, didn't even turn and look at her until she placed a hand on his shoulder. At this, he whipped his head about sharply, like a startled animal.

She smiled. "Hello. I'm Herald Ryara. Do you want to come back to the inn? They won't hurt you, or throw you out again. I won't let them."

Elryl began his senseless babbling again.

"Can you even understand me?"

He gave no real response—none that she could understand, anyway.

Ryara sighed. Perhaps Elryl was simply crazy.

She heard hoofbeats—ringing ones—behind her. "You didn't have to come out, Arilee," she said without turning her head.

The sound came closer. Elryl's eyes widened, and Ryara felt a Companion's nose shove her out of the way. She spun around, and stumbled back as she realized that this Companion wasn't Arilee.

The strange Companion—she recognized him as a stallion named Shyr who usually kept to himself in the edges of the Field and hadn't Chosen yet—bent his head to Elryl, who gasped and held out a hand tentatively. Shyr nuzzled it, and Ryara knew exactly what was happening. She had experienced it herself. Happily, she reached for Arilee with her mind. _:Ari, have you been listening?:_

_:Every word.: The Companion watched the scene through her Chosen's eyes. Both of them were remembering when they had been in that position, when Arilee had Chosen Ryara. __:Either Shyr is mad, or Elryl isn't,: Arilee added._

_:For some reason, I don't think it's either,: the Herald retorted._

Ryara smiled and turned back to Elryl and Shyr, who just seemed to be coming back from that place only new Heralds and their Companions seemed to go to. "Companion Shyr," she said cautiously, "I take it you and Elryl will be coming back with us to Haven?"

_:Oh, yes,: he replied, letting Elryl use him as a support to stand. __:For now, we're getting him back inside.:_

Ryara was vaguely surprised that this strange Companion was speaking to her as Companions rarely spoke to any other than their Chosen, but overcame her discomfort quickly. How else could they communicate? He couldn't have his Chosen relay his words to her like most did. "Forgive me, sir, but—how may I speak with Elryl?"

_:Mindspeak him,: came the instant reply.__ :He cannot hear, but he has Mindspeech in an incredible amount. I've given him the words and not just the emotions to speak with it.:_

"Right." Ryara had no idea what he was talking about, or how he had done such a thing, but she wasn't going to argue. Companions kept some secrets, and there was no getting information out of them when they felt like hiding it. _:Elryl?:_

He looked at her. _:Yes?: His Mindvoice was cautious, fearful._

_:My name is Herald Ryara. Did Shyr tell you what Heralds are?:_

_:He—he said I would be one—: He paused as Shyr gave him the information. __:He says I can trust you.:_

_:I'd explain fully, but you need to get inside. You'll freeze to death out here.:_

Elryl lowered his head. _:They won't let me in. They hate me. I don't know why—I never did anything to them.:_

_:I'll make them let you in,: Ryara said firmly, trying to keep her anger from coloring her Mindvoice, afraid that he would think it directed at him instead of those who had hurt him for so long. __:As a Herald, they'll listen to me. Now that you've been Chosen, Elryl, no one's ever going to throw you out of inns again.:_

Elryl had nothing to say to that. Shyr and Ryara walked him back to the inn. Elryl's Companion joined Ryara's in the stable, waking the groom to remove his tack. Elryl cast a wistful look after the stallion. Ryara patted his back. _:You'll see him again soon enough. And he's still there, in the back of your mind. You should've seen me after I was Chosen—I slept in the stables with Arilee, because I didn't want to be away from her for more than thirty seconds. But I need to get you inside now.:_

She threw open the door and helped Elryl to a seat beside the fire. He cast wary glances at the people who watched him from a distance with distaste.

Ryara stood tall and glared at them. "Bring me some blankets. Elryl has been Chosen by the Companion Shyr. He is going to be a Herald."

This information was a bit much for them. They stood there like idiots, mouths hanging open, until Ryara snarled, "Get me some damn blankets!"

Then they hopped to it. Ryara took the blankets from the stunned young woman who offered them to her and wrapped them around Elryl. _:Are you hungry?: she asked him._

_:Starved. Are they actually going to give me food?:_

_:Highest quality. Let me tell them.: Ryara turned her glare at the innkeeper and ordered him to bring her the best of whatever food they had left. He looked too cowed to do otherwise._

Elryl watched her closely as she pulled up a chair next to him. She could almost physically feel his intense gaze sliding over her. She blushed slightly, concentrating on moving the chair and hoping her face wasn't _too red. She sat next to him. __:So. Um. What questions do you have about...anything, really. I can't say I'll be able to answer them all, but I can try.:_

Elryl considered. _:I have so many I don't know where to start.:_

Ryara smiled. _:Pick any place.:_

_:What is it you do, that you can move your mouth and they obey? I try to do that, but they run away or hit me.:_

Ryara winced in sympathy. _:It's called speaking. Speaking with your mouth, though,  and not your mind like we are doing. There's another sense that goes along with it, called hearing. It's like what we do now, but they hear with their ears.: She touched her own to demonstrate.__ :There are other things like this too—sounds. Almost everything makes a sound.:_

_:How do you hear? I've never heard anything make a sound before.:_

_:Because you can't hear. I can't explain why. It just something that doesn't work in your body, the way some other people can't speak with their minds.:_

_:But—why?:_

_:I can't explain why. No one can.:_

Elryl was silent for a moment, digesting this information. _:Is that why they hurt me? Because I can't hear?:_

_:I think so.:_

_:That doesn't sound fair!: Elryl's eyes flashed._

_:It's not. It's the kind of thing Heralds fight against. It shouldn't happen, and it's not going to happen to you again, but—:_

_:But there are other people out there, people like me, or in worse situations. And that's why Heralds do what they—we—do, right?:_

Ryara was amazed that he'd caught on so quickly. _:Yes. Exactly:_

She would have kept talking with him, but at that moment, the innkeeper arrived with a large plate of food. Elryl wolfed down every bite, Ryara watching him protectively. The room emptied rather quickly, and soon Ryara and Elryl were alone again. The deaf man looked up cautiously at her. _:Are we leaving soon?: he asked. __:Shyr said you  would take me with you when you went.:_

Ryara considered for a moment. _:The villagers might have some conflicts they want me to judge, but we can probably leave tomorrow.: Wistfully she bid farewell to the thought of more than a night in a __real bed, but shrugged it off. Getting Elryl out of this town was more important than where she slept. His Gifts needed training, and while she could provide some good foundations, she was no teacher. __:You need to get back to Haven, and I know you want to leave here, and I don't think you should have to stay here a second more than you absolutely have to.:_

Elryl smiled. He had a very nice smile, Ryara noticed absentmindedly. Probably didn't see much use, though. _:Thank you.: His voice was the softest whisper in her mind._

_:No trouble at all.: She stood and stretched. __:And now, I would like to go to sleep. If they don't have two rooms ready, you can have the one they prepared. I can start a fire in the other one myself.:_

Elryl stood also. _:No, really, I should—:_

_:Go to sleep,: she told him in a mental tone that left no room for argument as they headed for the stairs. __:I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Elryl.:_

_:Good night.:_


	3. Snap of a Whip

When Elryl awoke in the morning, he thought he was still asleep. He couldn't ever remember ever being so warm and comfortable, not even when he'd slept in a farmer's barn with the cows. And this smelled better. Much better. Besides, when he'd slept with the cows, the farmer's son had found him in the morning, and he'd been given a beating he hadn't soon forgotten. He thought he still had scars from that one.

He closed his eyes, not wanting this lovely waking dream to end, so different from harsh reality.

And then he remembered Shyr.

His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright. _:Shyr?: he called._

_:Bright the day, sleepyhead,: came that wonderful voice. __:About time you got up. Ryara wouldn't let them wake you. She's off judging a dispute about an ancient, ugly horse now. Arilee says she's bored out of her mind. At least this is the last one. Breakfast is waiting for you downstairs. Once you're done, Ryara will probably be too, and then we can get out of here.:_

_:Nothing sounds better than that.:_

Elryl swung his legs out of bed and stood shakily. He hurried downstairs and scoffed his breakfast—he wanted some time alone with Shyr before they left for that city they'd mentioned. Haven. And he had plenty of questions for Shyr.

He ran from inn to stable, avoiding the few people still about. That is, before they avoided him. He didn't care—he wanted to see Shyr.

The stable door was open slightly. He slid through the gap, looking about for Shyr.

A stable-boy—more of a stable_man, tall, brawny, and at least five years older than Elryl—turned angrily toward him, his mouth moving frantically before he noticed who it was. When he did, he grinned wickedly and lifted a whip._

Elryl recognized this man, and was afraid. This one was responsible for more than one of the whip-scars the marked Elryl's back, and more besides. _:Shyr!:  he cried._

At the other end of the stable, the Companion whinnied furiously. He kicked frantically at his stall door, which the stableman had just come from shutting. Under normal Companions circumstances, locking a Companion into his or her stall would have been rude and earned the Companion's everlasting enmity. As it was...

Shyr reared and slammed his hooves into the door, making such a racket that the horses next to him began edging away. Elryl's fear projected from his unshielded mind, but the advancing man was unGifted and couldn't hear anything. The man was bigger and stronger than Elryl, who was already weakened from lack of food and couldn't hear his Companion's efforts to reach him.

_:Elryl! I'm locked in. Try to get to me—unlock the stall, and I'll stop him!:_

The man snapped the whip out; Elryl dodged with the ease of practice. He tried follow Shyr's instructions, but the stableman, not understanding that the youth he tormented was a Herald-to-be, cracked the whip in front of him. Elryl jumped back.

The next strike was unavoidable. This time when Elryl retreated, a line of blood dripped from his cheek and his shoulder stung.

He could feel the magic shifting in his mind, striving to free itself. But it wasn't magic, it was just the power, the power of his mind, the power of this Gift of Mindspeech, his retribution for the loss of his hearing. It wanted to reach out, wanted to tear this man to shreds. Elryl knew he didn't deserve it, but he couldn't help wanting to hurt this man back, give him some of what he'd given.

_No—no! That thought wasn't sent, only he heard it. __I can't do that—not even to him._

As Elryl stood stock still, trying to control his power, the whip lashed out again. The tip raked his open eye, and with the excruciating pain, all hell broke loose within him.

He screamed, the stableman screamed, and Shyr screamed—though Elryl could hear none of it. The power flew free. The stableman was knocked head over heels, the whip flying from his hand. Elryl knelt on the ground, sobbing and clutching his eye. Hot blood trickled between his fingers in a steady stream.

Shyr finally succeeded in kicking the door down. The bond between him and Elryl was not yet strong enough for the Companion to throw a solid shield around him unless they were physically touching—not with the magnitude of power Elryl possessed. He sprinted down the hall, straight past the stableman, who was struggling upright and being thrown down every time, bouncing almost like a child's ball.

_:Chosen! Touch me—:_

 Elryl heard the words in his mind as if from a dream. Reaching out a blindly with a blood-soaked hand, he touched Shyr's snowy white coat.

Ryara was bored out of her mind. The horse issue was done, and now the townsfolk were merely thanking her. They'd been at it for five minutes already.

Suddenly, she felt a mental explosion batter her shields, though the assault wasn't directed at her. She leaned on Arilee until the pounding stopped, then raised her head. She knew who had sent that. "Elryl," she whispered.

She leapt onto Arilee's back and raced for the inn.

The stableman rose shakily to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. He saw Elryl, hand clamped over his eye in a vain attempt to stop the flow of blood, and his face grew ugly. Once more, he reached for the whip.

Shyr screamed in rage and snapped at the man. His teeth came together with a resounding _click! as the stallion's target dodged._

_:Shyr, please—let him be.: Elryl could barely send through the pain, and could barely see through his good eye as the blood from the injured one dripped all over his face—all over everything. __:I need you.:_

The Companion wheeled sharply and turned back to his Chosen.

At that very moment, Ryara and Arilee burst through the stable doors. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked in her best stop-an-armed-squadron voice.

Her darting eyes took it all in in a few seconds: the whip, stained at the very tip with Elryl's blood, Elryl himself kneeling beside Shyr with his hand pressed over his face, the stableman trying once more to stand, and the blood everywhere. She dismounted hastily, hurrying to Elryl's side. "Arilee, go get the healer!"

The mare ran back outside. Ryara put her hand on Elryl's shoulder to let him know she was there as she crouched before him (paying no heed to the blood that began to turn her Whites to Bardic Scarlets), moving his hand gently away from his eye. _:Shyr, what happened?: she asked._

_:Elryl was coming in here to see me, and that—that—that thing__ over there had locked me in. He saw Elryl, pulled the whip out, and attacked him!: He tossed his head. __:I'm going to kill__ the—:_

Arilee's calm voice broke through Shyr's tirade. _:Calm down, Shyr! Your Chosen needs you. Don't dwell on revenge—yet.: There was a brutal promise in her voice that would have made the stableman blanch if he'd heard it._

Ryara, her arm still around Elryl, turned on the stableman. She opened her mouth to start yelling at him, than shook her head. "Things like you aren't worth the breath to yell at," she told him venomously. "I'll deal with you later." _:Elryl? Can you hear me?:_

_:Yes...: His voice was weak and shaky, stretched with pain._

_:I sent Arilee for the healer. Do you think you can last until—:_

_:I think so...ahh! Ryara…:_

_:Hold on, Elryl. Just hold on.:_

Congratulations! You've made it through the first three chapters. Now, if you haven't done so already, PLEASE REVIEW THIS STORY!!! Unless you're going to read the other chapters—but when you're done with them, I am _begging you, review. Thanks! And thanks to those of you who've already reviewed—I really appreciate it._


	4. Departure

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Yes, it is here, after long hours of toil, CHAPTER 4!!! It's not fantastic, but it doesn't leave you on a cliffhanger. And I'm stuck in terms of inspiration and what's going to happen next. I know the _eventual outcome, but...anyway, suggestions are very, very welcome, almost as much as reviews._

Once again, the stableman made as if to rise. Ryara looked up and gave him a look that would have frozen a better man. It made him sit hurriedly back down. "You," she spat, "will stay right there. You're responsible for this, and you _will see it out." __Bastard, she added mentally. __:Arilee—:_

_:I'm coming, I'm coming! Had to get the healer to actually mount. She's young, but she's got a touch of Gift. Almost there...:_

Two or three tense minutes later, Arilee raced in. The healer slipped off her back and scrambled up. Not in the least perturbed by the blood, she bent down beside Elryl and moved his hand away from his eye. When she saw who it was, she started in surprise and turned to Ryara for confirmation. "This is—?"

"Herald Trainee Elryl," Ryara replied shortly. "Heal him."

The healer shrugged, sighed, and peered into Elryl's eye. "It's not so bad," she announced after a moment of inspection. "Just messy and painful. It missed the iris, and I don't think any of this will scar. But it must have hurt like hell."

"Yes." _:Elryl, she says that you'll be alright, and it's not that bad, and it won't even scar.: Ryara's relief was clear in her mental voice. __:She's going to Heal you—I think.: "You will Heal him, won't you?"_

"I don't have much Gift, but it does need a bit of help." She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Soon the marks on Elryl's face faded, and he sighed in relief as the pain faded. "I can't close them completely, my Gift isn't strong enough, but I've fixed his eye mostly. He should wear a patch for the next week or so, and it should be fully healed by then." She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of soft white cloth and a strip of linen. Setting the cloth against his eye, she bound the linen around Elryl's head, holding it in place. "There you are." Ryara held out a few coins. "There's no fee for Heralds, or trainees—" the healer protested.

Ryara took her hand and set the coins in it. "Here's something anyway. Buy yourself something nice. I'll try to get some Healer's books sent over here."

The healer beamed. "Thank you, Herald!" She hopped up and dashed from the stable.

Ryara turned to the stableman, who blanched and looked away from her. "What is your name?" she asked stiffly.

"Joshin."

"How did this happen?"

"I was taking care of the horses. I'd just shut yon white horse—"

"Companion, boy." He was at least five years older than she was, but if he was going to act like a destructive toddler, she would treat him like one. "There's a difference. A large one."

He ducked his head and suddenly seemed very meek. "Yes m'lady. I'd just shut the Companion in an' I was going off t' meet with some o' my friends."

_It has friends? she thought dryly._

_:Chosen, pay attention to his story,: Arilee ordered, but Ryara could hear the agreement in her voice._

"I was walkin' out an' _he walks in without so much as a by-your-leave. I thought he was after the horses, or even the Companion. So I grabs the whip and flicks it at him. I didn' mean to actually do him harm. I hit his eye, an' then I went flyin'. Some kinda magic. The Companion broke his stall door down, and went for him. He snapped at me—almost took my hand off—and then you came."_

Shyr stamped. _:That's not what happened.: Ryara could tell from the stableman's gasp that he'd heard the Companion Speak as well. __:Elryl walked in to see me, and you saw him, and you attacked him. He gave no sign of being after the horses. I saw the way you looked at him—I saw it through his eyes. You hit him twice, not once—the healer can attest to that. His Gift broke loose—whose wouldn't, after what you'd done? Nothing wrong with that, oh, no, you've been doing it for years. Doesn't matter, he's just a madman. Well, I have news for you: he's not mad. He's going to be a Herald, and you have just assaulted a Heraldic Trainee, a severely punishable crime.:_

Joshin_ swallowed hard._

Ryara took over. "Even had he been mad, or not been a Trainee, what you did was simply inhumane. As such, I leave it up to the injured party to decide your punishment." _:Elryl, he has to pay somehow. You decide the punishment.:_

Elryl looked up at her. _:I have to hurt him?:_

_:No, just decide what's to be done with him. He attacked you, and you're a Heraldic Trainee, protected by the Crown. What he did was highly illegal, and inhumane on top of it.:_

_:I don't want him hurt. He didn't know he was doing anything wrong—he's been like this for years.: Elryl could feel Ryara's growing anger towards the man, who had dared hurt a Heraldic Trainee—and more than that, had dared hurt her friend. __:He's a sadistic bastard, but don't do anything too bad to him.:_

_:Can't I give him just a taste of what he gave you?:_

_:I bounced him around like he was a toy. I don't want this power, and I punished him enough already.:_

_:He has to have some sort of punishment other than that, or he'll just break the law again, thinking that if he got away with a felony like this, he can do it as much as he likes. He can spend some time in the town gaol—:_

_:That then.:_

Ryara shook her head in amazement. "You're lucky Elryl has a better temper than I do," she told Joshin. "A month in gaol should do for you. I'll take you there now."

Arilee stayed with Shyr and Elryl in the stables as Ryara took Joshin away.

_:I feel sorry for whoever has to clean all this blood up,: Arilee joked._

Elryl chuckled, leaning back against Shyr's legs. _:I will be so glad when we get out of here.:_

Ryara came back quickly. _:We'll leave now,: she announced. __:I don't think we should stay here any longer. The innkeeper's packing a bag of provisions. It won't be long.:_

She saddled Arilee and Shyr as Elryl watched. By the time she was done, the innkeeper had finished packing their food. Rynna shoved the haversacks into their saddlebags, mounted Arilee, and they were off.

Elryl got the hang of riding fast enough. On Shyr, it was easy as breathing—almost. _:You'll be sore by the end of the day,: Ryara told him. __:So sore you won't be able to walk. Being saddlesore is not__ a pleasant experience, but you'll find this out soon enough for yourself.:_

_:You know you're just wonderful at boosting confidence,: he retorted. She giggled._

There was a lull in the conversation for the next few minutes. Finally, Elryl started in on his barrage of questions. _:Shyr explained almost everything, but how am I supposed to fulfill any Heraldic duties when I can't hear?:_

_:You've survived for the last twenty-something years perfectly fine. You have the most powerful Mindspeech Gift I've ever heard of. What more do you need? You'll prove yourself; never fear.:_

_:But won't everyone at the Palace treat me like the villagers back there did?: He jerked his head in the direction of the village._

_:No,: Ryara replied firmly. __:I'm not saying that no one will ever treat you strangely, but unless you fall into the hands of the Karsites, no one's going to torture you like that again. You're a Herald, and they'll respect that. They trust the Companions' judgement, and with good reason. Only once has a Companion ever regretted her Choice.:_

_:What happened?: Elryl couldn't help but ask._

A/N: WARNING!! The following paragraph contains BIG spoilers for the first book of the Last Herald-Mage trilogy (_Magic's Pawn), so if you haven't read it, skip the paragraph, then go read them, because they're the best things Mercedes Lackey wrote and that's saying something._

_:It was a long time ago. Gala Chose Tylendel, and he went mad when his twin brother Staven was killed in a feud with a neighboring family. He tried to seek revenge, and she repudiated him, then dove into a pack of wyrsa__ that he'd summoned and died before his eyes. He threw himself from the belltower. It's an awful story, but without that, we'd all be dead. Tylendel's lifebonded, Vanyel Ashkevron, had no active Gifts before, and the backlash of Gate energy released his Gifts. He was Chosen, and saved Valdemar from total annihilation many times.:_

Elryl was silent. _:That only happened once?:_

_:And it's not going to happen again,: Shyr interjected forcefully. __:I already told you, Elryl, that I would never leave you, and to that I hold.:_

_:I think every Herald—or Trainee—asks their Companion for assurance when that story is told,: Ryara mused. __:I know I did, first time I heard it.:_

_:And we all say something along the same lines,: Arilee put in. __:And we always mean it. We speak of Gala in a fearful way, fearful as though the same thing should happen to us. But it won't, if we stand firm in our Choice.:_

Ryara grinned. _:How heroic, Ari!:_

_:You shut it.:_

Elryl laughed and they rode on.

Yup, end of chapter 4! Chapter 5 will come...I hope. Suggestions and REVIEWS, please?


	5. Haven

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

A/N: I really, really, really wanted to thank M'cha, whose review inspired me to set aside my Drizzt fic and work strictly on this one until I got chapter five up. I've never received such a high complement for my stories. Thank you. Also, thank you to Sassinak (don't know if you're reading this, or boycotting everything I write in rage). I didn't realize I had offended anyone on any of my stories. Again, if you're reading this, please check the reviews of that story for a response to your review. Though I think comparing me to the guy with the whip in chapter 4 just because I don't like the current President is more than a little severe, and that was the only thing I took offense to in your review (so, because you've read a meaningless piece of babble that I wrote, you think you know me and can compare me to filth like that?! That's pretty ridiculous and childish.).

Elryl's jaw dropped. Ryara had warned him that Haven would be mind-boggling, but nothing she had said could compare him for the reality.

People were everywhere, running, gesturing wildly, buying, selling...he couldn't take it all in fast enough. Their presence made him nervous—he still expected them to hurt him. Twenty-odd years of beatings weren't thrown aside in two weeks. _:How do you keep track of anything?: he asked Ryara incredulously._

_:I don't,: she replied, grinning at his awestruck expression. __:I just keep track of me, and now you. Don't be too worried—you're not the only country bumpkin who's totally bewildered at the first sight of Haven. You should've seen me__. I tried to turn Arilee around and run for home! I think about half the Heralds come from the dirt, so we're not alone. Even if we were, we'd have each other to sympathize with, so things wouldn't be so bad.:_

_:Is this really safe?: Elryl watched a boy slide his hand into a woman's pocket, then run away as she turned on him and slapped his face. __:It doesn't look like it.:_

_:Oh, it's not. But for a Herald and a Trainee, we might as well be walking across Companion's Field, except for the smell.: Ryara wrinkled her nose. __:The Palace and grounds don't stink as much. And all the people—__too many people out here for my taste. And, in my case and that of the Companions, the noise.:_

_:Is it loud?: Elryl asked. He had found that he had a certain morbid fascination with sound, being unable to experience it. He asked Ryara about it a lot, even though it made him feel a sense of loss for something he'd never had and never would._

_:Very. Let's get to the Palace. I don't like it out here.: Ryara urged her Companion on._

It was a good thing Shyr knew to follow Arilee around, or Elryl would have been lost in an instant. He couldn't seem to look at everything enough. People smiled at him—the last thing he expected after the treatment he'd had all his life—and waved. He saw their mouths moving, but of course, he couldn't hear their voices. He stared at the back of Shyr's head.

Ryara led Elryl through the bustling streets of Haven to the Palace. There they dismounted and gave their reins to a stableboy, who gave them a grin. _:This way,: Ryara said, taking his hand. __:You should meet the Dean.:_

_:Who's the Dean?:_

_:His name's Ralin. He's head of the Heraldic Collegium. He's very nice. You'll like him, I think. I do.:_

Ryara took Elryl to Dean Ralin's office. The Dean himself was sitting calmly at his desk writing. He looked up as the door opened. He was young for such a high position—not out of his thirties—with short red hair and brown eyes. He smiled when he saw Ryara, and his smile broadened at the sight of the nervous young man behind her. "Welcome back, Herald Ryara! How was your circuit?"

_:What's he saying?: Elryl asked._

_:I'll tell you in a minute.: "Uneventful, with one exception," she said aloud. "Companion Shyr showed up about two weeks ago and Chose Elryl here."_

Ralin turned to Elryl. "Welcome to Haven and the Collegium, Elryl."

Elryl's eyes flicked to Ryara. _:He welcomed you to Haven and the Collegium,: she explained._

_:Tell him thank you—__or can I? Does he have Mindspeech?:_

_:None at all. He can't even speak with his Companion. I'll tell him.: "He can't hear, sir," Ryara told Ralin._

"He can't—"

"But his Mindspeech is more powerful than any I've ever heard of. He thanks you for the welcome."

"Has he any other Gifts?"

"No, sir, but he doesn't need them."

"What happened to his face?" They had taken Elryl's eye-patch a week ago, but a pink line of new skin still showed on his cheek.

"That's part of the story. May we sit down, sir?"

"Of course. Make yourselves comfortable."

Ryara pulled up two chairs. _:I'm going to tell him the whole story,: she said to Elryl._

He nodded. _:Try not to take too long. The silence will get boring.:_

She grinned. Ralin looked back and forth between them. "Do tell," he said dryly.

Ryara told him everything that had happened since Elryl had been Chosen. "And so we're here, sir," she finished. "If you ask me, Shyr made one of the best Choices I've ever seen." _:Arilee, don't you dare__ tell him I said that,: she added to her Companion._

_:Why not?: the mare asked innocently._

_:Don't you dare!: "If you'll excuse my asking, sir, could I be Elryl's mentor?"_

The Dean raised his eyebrows. "Mentor is hardly the proper word. He's at least as old as you are."

"Forgive me, sir, but you know what I mean."

Ralin grinned. "Only you are able to stay respectful and scold me at the same time. Very well, Herald: you can be a translator for the mentally unGifted."

"Not a good choice of words, sir."

"Shyr made a better one..."

Ryara flushed very red.

_:What did he say?: Elryl asked. __:You're blushing.:_

_:Nothing. Never mind.:_

_:Please tell me—__:_

_:He was just making fun of me.:_

_:I see.:_

"May we go, sir?"

Ralin couldn't quite hide his grin. "Yes, Herald. Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir." _:We can go now,: she said to Elryl._

_:And what did he say besides something that made you blush?: he asked as they left the room._

_:Basically, I get to retake all the classes so I can "translate" for you, and for everyone else.:_

_:Really? You'll be with me the whole time?:_

_:Most of it.:_

Elryl's face shone. _:I thought you'd go off on circuit and I wouldn't see you again.:_

_:Havens, no!: Ryara laughed. __:They won't send me out again so soon, and even if they did send my away, you'd see me again. You're a very good friend, Elryl, and I wouldn't want to loose you.:_

_:Oh, good,: Elryl said, not knowing how else to take the complement. He knew he was blushing at least as red as Ryara had not long ago._

Ryara noticed this and changed the subject. _:Let's go get your uniform. Trust me, they're much more comfortable than rags, even if they do make us walking targets.:_

_:Walking targets?: Elryl asked as they walked on._

_:Just look at me!: Ryara stood back and held her arms out. __:If I was in a forest, or anywhere else for that matter, trying to hide, anyone could see me! I might as well shout, 'Herald! Herald! Right over here! Come and get me! Please shoot me! Look at my blindingly white uniform!': Elryl laughed, and she grinned. __:But at first, they're gray instead of white. You get your Whites when you graduate, a few years from now.:_

Elryl listened to Ryara babble on, explaining everything about the Collegium, but only with half an ear. He was quite content to just be, for the moment.


	6. The Weaponsmaster

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

A/N (it'll be shorter than the last one, promise): Herald Thoril's style of drilling is based on my fencing teacher's. It includes assembling students into a line and yelling instructions at them. Very educational.

After she got Elryl some uniforms, Ryara spent the rest of the day showing him around the Collegium, explaining which classes he would take and where. Towards evening, she took him to meet the Weaponsmaster. _:I'm sure there're less cheerful people out there somewhere,: she cautioned him, __:and I don't want to meet them. Herald Thoril is bad enough. Don't let him get to you, though—when you do something perfectly, he lets you know it. Still, try to stay on his good side.:_

Elryl swallowed hard. Suddenly, he wasn't so confident. _:Don't worry,: Shyr told him. __:Ryara won't let him snap at you yet. She could defend you against five attackers single-handedly and easily.:_

_:She's that good?:_

_:She's that good. As long as she has a sword. Otherwise, run. Just take my word for it, and run.:_

Ryara opened the door and stuck her head in. _:Let's go.:_

Herald Thoril was shouting at a line of young Trainees. "Advance! Retreat! Advance! Advance! Lunge! Double! Forward recovery! Retreat parry four!" He noticed Ryara hovering at the door, trying to get his attention without interrupting. "Jump advance lunge! Take over, Shannon!"

Shannon, an older student, left off talking to her friend and took over the shouting. "Recover! Retreat, retreat, retreat! Double advance! Lunge!"

Thoril extended a callused hand to Ryara. "Welcome back, Herald. How was your first solitary circuit?"

"Memorable," Ryara replied.

_:Is he just welcoming you back like all the other teachers did?: Elryl asked, a bit bored and impatient._

_:Yes. I'll explain things to him in a minute. Hold on.: "I was there when Elryl here was Chosen—Shyr came racing up all of a sudden. We have __got to do something about the timing of Companions. In any case, he's been Chosen, and he's had no weapons training at all. But he's very good at evading any blow you aim at him." __Practice makes perfect, she thought angrily. She still hadn't gotten over her rage at the townsfolk of Elryl's village, and doubted that she ever truly would._

Thoril raised his eyebrows. "Is there some reason for that fact?" he asked Elryl.

"Yessir," Ryara replied. "He's been abused all his life, because the villagers in the town he lived in thought he was insane because he can't hear. You have Mindspeech, don't you, sir?"

"A little."

"It'll be enough to talk with him. His is more powerful than any Gift I've seen, and I've never even heard of Mindspeech being so powerful."

Thoril raised his eyebrows. _:Elryl?: he said in Broadsend mode so that Ryara could hear as well._

_:Yes, sir?: Elryl replied politely._

_:You've never handled any weapons at all?:_

Ryara struggled to hide her smile. _:He always gets right to the point,: she whispered to Elryl._

Elryl winked at her. _:No, sir, I haven't.:_

_:None at all?:_

_:I can brawl relatively well, sir, but I don't think that's what you mean.:_

_:No, it's not. Well, let's see how good you are.: Thoril turned to the weapons rack. He ran his fingers over the sword hilts until he found one to his satisfaction. __:Try this.: He tossed it to Elryl, who caught it neatly._

Thoril lifted his own practice sword. He walked into the fencing strip into the fencing strip. Elryl came up in front of him. Thoril settled into a fighter's crouch. _:Let's go.:_

He came in hard and fast. Elryl dodged out of the way, letting his sword droop almost to the ground. _:Keep the blade up,: Ryara advised as he came up cautiously._

Thoril nodded. _:Not a bad dodge. But  how will you do against this?:_

He launched a series of thrusts, but once again, Elryl followed the only school of fighting he knew, ducking and running back. Soon Thoril had him backed up against a wall, forcing him to fight back. Ryara heard the swords clash a few times, then Elryl managed to break away and—somehow—get past Thoril, who came after him, making him use the sword.

Elryl was supposed to loose this duel; it was meant to gauge his skill. Thoril knew that, Ryara knew that, and the small audience that had begun to gather beside her knew that.

But Elryl apparently didn't.

When Thoril disarmed him, sending the sword flying up into the air and catching it in his left hand, Elryl tripped over his own feet as he skittered away and fell to the ground. He backed up until he hit another wall, and looked up the two blades into Thoril's hard face, and the reflexes of over twenty years defeated two and a half weeks of friendliness. Fear took over. The power broke loose.

Thoril dropped both swords and stumbled back, clutching his head. He fell to the ground and cried out. Ryara gasped as she guessed what was happening and ran to them.

Through his haze of fear, Elryl saw Ryara coming towards him. He heard her voice in his head, telling him to lock it down, showing him how. Shyr was trying to get a hold on his Gift, telling him calm down, that no one would hurt him anymore, that he was there for him. Elryl was bewildered with the two voices, hearing the thoughts of all the Trainees projecting their own fear. It mingled with his own and magnified it. He couldn't tell where he stopped and everyone else began anymore. He curled into a ball, trying to block it all out, but only making it worse.

Someone placed her hands on his shoulders. He looked up into Ryara's terrified face. _:Elryl! Elryl! Come back to me! Elryl!:_

With two strong holds on reality—Shyr and Ryara, each holding him firmly now—Elryl managed to bring himself back, pulling his Gift back into himself with an effort. He collapsed into Ryara's willing arms, shaking furiously.

Thoril propped himself up on one hand, the other pressed against his forehead. "You were right, Ryara. That's a Gift like none I've seen before. What in hell happened there?"

Ryara ignored him, holding Elryl tightly, rocking slowly back and forth.

So, what do you think? Push the review button and tell me. This is my most popular story. I'm starting to live off of those reviews.


	7. In Companion's Field

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

A/N: Sorry about the wait. I recently finished writing my book, and I've been in a sort of daze, and writing has been totally impossible. In answer to Shadowcat's question, yes, the Drizzt I mentioned is THE Drizzt, the one and only Drizzt Do'Urden of N'ashez Baernon, Ninth House of Menzoberranzen (if I spelled any of that wrong, it's cuz I did it from memory and I'm too lazy to look the proper spelling up). I'm writing a story about him, too, and another Valdemar one, and a couple Lord of the Rings ones. I hope this explains my delays...no, I'm fishing for excuses. Anyway, enjoy. And I hope no one minds the incredibly hard to write (for me) semi-romantic parts.

"What are we going to do about this boy, Your Majesties?"

King Arden and Queen Leesa exchanged looks. Arden shook his head, and Leesa turned back to the servant reporting the news of the newly Chosen Elryl and the story of how his Gift had escaped his control. It was clear what he thought—his expression, part fear, part disdain, and part disgust gave him away. "He stays, and we teach him to control his Gift. What else is there to be done?"

"But, Your Majesty—" he started to protest, but Leesa cut him off.

"Have you any doubt of the Companions' Choice?"

"No, my lady." The man seemed surprised by the question.

"I doubt you could separate Elryl and Shyr with an army. Shyr's Choice was true, and he stands by it now. All the Companions are on Elryl's side. Just look at the Field! He's out there now, he and Herald Ryara, surrounded by Companions, all ready to defend them. What more proof do you need?"

Cowed by his queen's lecture, the servant bowed and left the throne room. Leesa sat back in her throne and removed her crown, rubbing at her forehead. "This is all we need: an out-of-control Gift."

"The Companions are adamant—"

"No need to tell me that. Rishi's been giving me a devil of a headache, going on and on and on about how we have to protect the Heralds, and how it's not Elryl's fault, and—"

"Enough, enough!" Arden held up his hands. "Allar's giving me the same. Seems like they're all teaming up on us. I wonder why."

Leesa shrugged. "Who knows with Companions? Could mean anything. Elryl could be the next Vanyel, or he could be just another Herald. If that's the case, he's got friends in high places. _All the Companions...and that Herald Ryara." She shook her head. "Unpredictable horses."_

_:I heard that!: Rishi snapped._

_:You were supposed to.: "We should get Elryl a teacher."_

"Our best," Arden agreed. "That's be Herald—Cynthia, wouldn't you say?"

"I'll send a page to her now." Leesa reached for the red velvet bell pull.

Elryl sat in the center of Companion's Field next to Ryara, leaning against Arilee's side. They were surrounded by Companions, some grazing, some standing watch, some lying casually beside them. He was amazed at the sudden turn of events. Since his Gift had gotten away from him, attacking Herald Thoril, the Companions had apparently been complaining to their Heralds, demanding that he be given a place among them and so forth. Arilee hadn't needed to speak to Ryara—she defended him as fiercely as Shyr. Elryl was grateful for her friendship, more grateful than he could ever say.

He looked down at her. She and Arilee were both dozing. She waved a bee away from her face without waking up fully, smiling slightly and turning on her side towards him.

Elryl smiled too. If his life were all like this, he wouldn't be so afraid.

He couldn't control his Gift. It had gotten away from him and hurt someone who was helpless to stop it, just as he'd been helpless to stop most of the attacks upon him over the years. He couldn't loose control like that ever again. But what could he do to stop it? He could only think of one person who he could ask that question of. _:Shyr?:_

_:Yes, Chosen?:_

_:How—how do I control my Gift?:_

Shyr hesitated, and Elryl feared he would say that there was no way. _:We will train it, but your Gift is stronger than any before. Things could get—interesting.:_

_:Is that a good interesting or a bad interesting?:_

_:Probably both. Don't worry. Ryara and I won't let anything else like that happen. I've got a firmer shield on you now, and soon you'll be able to build your own, and it'll be even stronger.:_

Elryl cocked his head to one side. _:What's shielding?:_

Shyr tossed his head and gave the Companions equivalent of a laugh. He flopped onto the ground beside Elryl and looked him in the eye. _:Rishi and Allar say that the king and queen have assigned you a teacher, Herald Cynthia. She'll explain everything, and better than I can.:_

_:What's this, a Companion admitting that a human can do something better than him?: Elryl feigned shock._

_:Oh, shut up!: Shyr shook his mane. __:Humans.:_

Elryl bit his lip to keep from chuckling—he didn't want to wake Ryara. _:Why can't Ryara teach me?: he asked more seriously._

_:Because Cynthia is better.:_

_:She's not—:_

_:Let me rephrase that. Her Gift of Mindspeech is stronger, she's been teaching for years, and she's more experienced than Ryara. Stop fretting! You do that too much!: Shyr admonished when Elryl's face fell. __:I'm sure you'll see Ryara more than you want.:_

_:Not possible.:_

Shyr bobbed his head, a mischievous look in his blue eyes. _:Oh?:_

_:I mean—:_

_:I know what you mean. Wake her up, get down on one knee, and spout poetry! Go on, she'll love it! She'll fall into your arms and you'll live happily ever after!:_

Elryl blushed furiously. _:And I suppose you and Arilee...:_

_:What?:_

_:If I spout poetry at Ryara, you have to do the same to Arilee.:_

_:Oh, no you don't! Companions aren't poetic. We inspire songs; we don't sing them.:_

_:Nice excuse.:_

_:It is, isn't it? I mean—:_

Elryl put his hands behind his head and leaned further back, grinning smugly. _:Ha.:_

He rested one arm on Arilee's side. Ryara blinked. _:Did I fall asleep? Sorry.:_

_:Yes, you did. You've been working too hard.:_

Without thinking about what he was doing, he moved his arm forward, around her shoulders. But instead of pulling away, as he half-feared she would do, Ryara scooted closer to him and slid her arm around his waist, sighing happily. Ignoring Shyr's triumphant mental giggling, Elryl rested his cheek on Ryara's head.

_:Kiss her already!: Shyr crowed.___

_:Shut up.:_

_:Oh, come on, if—:_

_:Shut up.:_

_:Elryl—:_

_:Shyr, shut up.:_

Shyr finally subsided, still chuckling childishly. Elryl ignored him and closed his eyes.


	8. This is chpt. 7--mistake

Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

A/N: Sorry about the wait. I recently finished writing my book, and I've been in a sort of daze, and writing has been totally impossible. In answer to Shadowcat's question, yes, the Drizzt I mentioned is THE Drizzt, the one and only Drizzt Do'Urden of N'ashez Baernon, Ninth House of Menzoberranzen (if I spelled any of that wrong, it's cuz I did it from memory and I'm too lazy to look the proper spelling up). I'm writing a story about him, too, and another Valdemar one, and a couple Lord of the Rings ones. I hope this explains my delays...no, I'm fishing for excuses. Anyway, enjoy. And I hope no one minds the incredibly hard to write (for me) semi-romantic parts.

"What are we going to do about this boy, Your Majesties?"

King Arden and Queen Leesa exchanged looks. Arden shook his head, and Leesa turned back to the servant reporting the news of the newly Chosen Elryl and the story of how his Gift had escaped his control. It was clear what he thought—his expression, part fear, part disdain, and part disgust gave him away. "He stays, and we teach him to control his Gift. What else is there to be done?"

"But, Your Majesty—" he started to protest, but Leesa cut him off.

"Have you any doubt of the Companions' Choice?"

"No, my lady." The man seemed surprised by the question.

"I doubt you could separate Elryl and Shyr with an army. Shyr's Choice was true, and he stands by it now. All the Companions are on Elryl's side. Just look at the Field! He's out there now, he and Herald Ryara, surrounded by Companions, all ready to defend them. What more proof do you need?"

Cowed by his queen's lecture, the servant bowed and left the throne room. Leesa sat back in her throne and removed her crown, rubbing at her forehead. "This is all we need: an out-of-control Gift."

"The Companions are adamant—"

"No need to tell me that. Rishi's been giving me a devil of a headache, going on and on and on about how we have to protect the Heralds, and how it's not Elryl's fault, and—"

"Enough, enough!" Arden held up his hands. "Allar's giving me the same. Seems like they're all teaming up on us. I wonder why."

Leesa shrugged. "Who knows with Companions? Could mean anything. Elryl could be the next Vanyel, or he could be just another Herald. If that's the case, he's got friends in high places. _All the Companions...and that Herald Ryara." She shook her head. "Unpredictable horses."_

_:I heard that!: Rishi snapped._

_:You were supposed to.: "We should get Elryl a teacher."_

"Our best," Arden agreed. "That's be Herald—Cynthia, wouldn't you say?"

"I'll send a page to her now." Leesa reached for the red velvet bell pull.

Elryl sat in the center of Companion's Field next to Ryara, leaning against Arilee's side. They were surrounded by Companions, some grazing, some standing watch, some lying casually beside them. He was amazed at the sudden turn of events. Since his Gift had gotten away from him, attacking Herald Thoril, the Companions had apparently been complaining to their Heralds, demanding that he be given a place among them and so forth. Arilee hadn't needed to speak to Ryara—she defended him as fiercely as Shyr. Elryl was grateful for her friendship, more grateful than he could ever say.

He looked down at her. She and Arilee were both dozing. She waved a bee away from her face without waking up fully, smiling slightly and turning on her side towards him.

Elryl smiled too. If his life were all like this, he wouldn't be so afraid.

He couldn't control his Gift. It had gotten away from him and hurt someone who was helpless to stop it, just as he'd been helpless to stop most of the attacks upon him over the years. He couldn't loose control like that ever again. But what could he do to stop it? He could only think of one person who he could ask that question of. _:Shyr?:_

_:Yes, Chosen?:_

_:How—how do I control my Gift?:_

Shyr hesitated, and Elryl feared he would say that there was no way. _:We will train it, but your Gift is stronger than any before. Things could get—interesting.:_

_:Is that a good interesting or a bad interesting?:_

_:Probably both. Don't worry. Ryara and I won't let anything else like that happen. I've got a firmer shield on you now, and soon you'll be able to build your own, and it'll be even stronger.:_

Elryl cocked his head to one side. _:What's shielding?:_

Shyr tossed his head and gave the Companions equivalent of a laugh. He flopped onto the ground beside Elryl and looked him in the eye. _:Rishi and Allar say that the king and queen have assigned you a teacher, Herald Cynthia. She'll explain everything, and better than I can.:_

_:What's this, a Companion admitting that a human can do something better than him?: Elryl feigned shock._

_:Oh, shut up!: Shyr shook his mane. __:Humans.:_

Elryl bit his lip to keep from chuckling—he didn't want to wake Ryara. _:Why can't Ryara teach me?: he asked more seriously._

_:Because Cynthia is better.:_

_:She's not—:_

_:Let me rephrase that. Her Gift of Mindspeech is stronger, she's been teaching for years, and she's more experienced than Ryara. Stop fretting! You do that too much!: Shyr admonished when Elryl's face fell. __:I'm sure you'll see Ryara more than you want.:_

_:Not possible.:_

Shyr bobbed his head, a mischievous look in his blue eyes. _:Oh?:_

_:I mean—:_

_:I know what you mean. Wake her up, get down on one knee, and spout poetry! Go on, she'll love it! She'll fall into your arms and you'll live happily ever after!:_

Elryl blushed furiously. _:And I suppose you and Arilee...:_

_:What?:_

_:If I spout poetry at Ryara, you have to do the same to Arilee.:_

_:Oh, no you don't! Companions aren't poetic. We inspire songs; we don't sing them.:_

_:Nice excuse.:_

_:It is, isn't it? I mean—:_

Elryl put his hands behind his head and leaned further back, grinning smugly. _:Ha.:_

He rested one arm on Arilee's side. Ryara blinked. _:Did I fall asleep? Sorry.:_

_:Yes, you did. You've been working too hard.:_

Without thinking about what he was doing, he moved his arm forward, around her shoulders. But instead of pulling away, as he half-feared she would do, Ryara scooted closer to him and slid her arm around his waist, sighing happily. Ignoring Shyr's triumphant mental giggling, Elryl rested his cheek on Ryara's head.

_:Kiss her already!: Shyr crowed.___

_:Shut up.:_

_:Oh, come on, if—:_

_:Shut up.:_

_:Elryl—:_

_:Shyr, shut up.:_

Shyr finally subsided, still chuckling childishly. Elryl ignored him and closed his eyes.


End file.
